Remember When It Rained
by cmaddict
Summary: When Sofia is kidnapped, can Catherine and the others save her from her sadistic abductor? And what does Sofia's mother have to do with the whole mess? Hints of Grillows and SoNic. DEFINITELY NOT SLASH! Please R&R! Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the first time I've ever written in this particular format, so I'd really appreciate constructive criticism. I figure that it's about time I start to branch out, so I'm experimenting with this one. This is written post-"Lying Down with Dogs," so Warrick is still on suspension and Sara has left, from the alternating POV of Sofia and Catherine.**

**Rating: T (for language)  
Pairings: Hints of Grillows and SoNic, nothing outright (yet).  
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Period.**

* * *

I remember every single detail of that night. They say that when you go through something really traumatic, every detail starts to stand out. I guess we tend to continually revisit the event, trying desperately to make some sense of the chaos. I don't always place much stock in psychology-- I am a scientist at heart-- but sometimes even science doesn't really have a good explanation for the randomness of the human soul.

I remember it was raining. Unusual for that time of year. The wind was blowing pretty cold out of the north. Doesn't happen much in Las Vegas during the spring, but when it does even the most hardcore gamblers have the sense to get off the Strip. CSI had just finished another major case, and I felt like celebrating. Nick was wrapping up some things and said he'd meet me at the restaurant for some drinks and food. Naturally I went ahead.

The lights of the casinos danced off the raindrops on my car as I locked the door and rushed into the diner. I chuckled as I brushed the wet drops off my coat, my heart pounding from the strange adrenaline rush I got from beating the rain to the door.

"Crappy night out there, huh?"

I looked up to see the waitress grinning at me, and I smiled back as I pushed a damp strand of hair out of my eyes. "Something like that. Got anything to warm me up?"

She laughed. "Sure, honey. We got a fresh pot of coffee brewing in the back."

"Coffee sounds wonderful."

The waitress showed me to a booth and handed me a menu. I perused it for a couple of minutes, trying to find something that sounded good at two o'clock in the morning. Somehow a large greasy cheeseburger just wasn't very appetizing. Nick, on the other hand, might think that was wonderful. That's when I started to feel like something just wasn't right.

You know how sometimes you can just feel someone's eyes on you? I got that kind of prickly sensation on the back of my neck, like someone was just staring at me. I know I'm a pretty good-looking woman; I'm used to being stared at. Normally I just laugh it off and go back to whatever I'm doing. But this time... this time I got a knot in the pit of my stomach.

There was no one else in the diner. The waitress had gone back to the kitchen, presumably to get the coffee. I tried to settle back into the soft cushion of the booth and told myself I was being an idiot. "You're perfectly fine," I firmly told my twisting insides. "You're a cop. No one's gonna hurt you."

I set down my menu and glanced out the window to see if Nick had finally shown up. That's when I saw the eyes. A pair of ice blue eyes leered at me through the window, sending shivers through my spine. They were a cold set of eyes. There was no lust, no love, no admiration... just malice. I've been a cop long enough to know when someone is just plain evil. These eyes were devoid of any kind of emotion. No coffee would warm me up now. All I could see- and still can see- are those eyes.

Hastily I slid out from the booth, pulling my phone from my pocket as I ran out the door into the pouring rain. I dialed Nick's number, praying that he would pick up his phone for once. It rang a couple of times. "C'mon, dammit," I muttered, fighting my way to my car.

"Stokes," he finally answered.

"Nick, I-" I never got to finish. Someone grabbed my hair, and another hand with a cloth roughly grabbed my face. I dropped the phone and tried to kick him in the shins or anything I could reach, but I could smell the chloroform already. I raked my fingers across his face, and my heart jumped with satisfaction when I heard his howl of pain and frustration. The lights of the casinos across the street started to get a little blurry, and my head ached like crazy. I tried to struggle some more, but I could feel my body succumbing to the drug. Finally, everything went black.

* * *

That night. Oh, man, that night. You would think that after everything that had happened to our lab in the past year-- Sara getting kidnapped and then quitting, Warrick's brush with the wrong side of the law-- we'd be used to catastrophes. Maybe it was because all of that had happened so soon that we were so traumatized. There comes a point when the human mind can't take any more problems. I think we had reached that a long time before what happened to Sofia.

I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw Nick's face. He had this horrified, worried, stricken look plastered all over his face. His mouth drooped, his eyes narrowed, his brow crinkled. I hadn't seen him look that worried since... well, since Sara.

"Sofia," he said into the phone. "Sofia, are you there?" His voice raised an octave every time he said her name.

"Nick, what's wrong?" I asked, worried because he was worried. Nick doesn't get worried like that.

He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "Sofia, are you there?"

"What happened?"

He slammed his phone shut in frustration and grabbed his jacket. "Something bad."

"What?"

"I don't know. It sounded like she's in trouble." He shoved one arm into his jacket sleeve. "She said she was going to wait for me at the diner."

I sighed. Damn these chivalrous gentlemen. "Right. I'm coming with you."

Nick looked at me with those eyes of his. "Catherine, you don't have-"

"She's one of us, Nick." I reached into my locker and grabbed my own jacket. "I'm coming."

The ride in Nick's truck from the lab was unusually quiet. Rain still pounded on the windshield, the wipers keeping a steady time. I risked a glance at Nick. He was focused on the road, driving as fast as he could without risking hydroplaning on the wet road. His brow was furrowed, showing just how worried he really was.

Part of me wanted to grin like a little girl who just found out a big secret. I had been waiting for the two of them to get something going. The fact that he was so worried about her could have meant something. But there was no way in hell I was going to say anything at that point. Nicky would have bitten my head off.

Nick pulled out his phone again and hit redial. He waited as it rang, jaw clenched tightly in frustration. "This is Detective Sofia Curtis..." He slammed it shut again as he reached her voicemail.

"She's going to be okay, Nicky," I whispered hesitantly, not really sure if I wanted to say something.

"Yeah." It was all he said. He quickly glanced at me and gave me a wan smile, as if to reassure me that he was trying to believe me.

Nick pulled into the diner's parking lot and swiftly turned off the car. If it wasn't such a serious situation, I would have laughed hysterically at the sight of him nearly falling out of the car in his haste to get out. I just bit my cheek and held it in as he rushed into the diner.

He dashed out of the diner a couple of minutes later. "The waitress said she came in and then disappeared. She was in the back getting coffee." He practically spat out the word.

I quickly glanced around the parking lot. "Her car's still here. She didn't go anywhere alone." I ignored his low humph. "She's either around here somewhere or..." I stopped when he glared at me. I didn't really want to finish the sentence either. I pulled my flashlight out of my pocket and turned it on, and Nick quickly followed my lead.

I made my way toward Sofia's car from where Nick's car sat, scanning the pavement for anything that could give us any sort of clue as to what happened to her.

"Hey, Cath."

I hurried over to where he stood and shined my flashlight on the ground. It was a cell phone… that looked strangely like Sofia's phone.

"It's Sofia's," Nick said quietly. "She wouldn't leave that behind willingly."

I moved my flashlight over and spotted a white cloth lying about two feet away from it. Taking a glove out of my vest pocket, I squatted down and gently picked it up. I brought it close to my face and sniffed. "Chloroform," I said quietly as I looked up at Nick.

He gritted his teeth and picked up her phone with a gloved hand. "We should call Brass. This is a crime scene."

* * *

**Well, what did you think? Reviews equal updates, as long as I can keep up with my school work. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Hope you guys like this chapter. I'll try to update again this weekend. **

* * *

It's funny how traumatic events can really make you think about how you view a person. Take Sofia, for instance. At first, I didn't really like her. After all, she was Day Shift, on Ecklie's team, and God knows how much I can't stand that self-absorbed pain-in-the-ass. I didn't particularly like how she worked with the team, especially after Ecklie split us up. But… the more I got to know her, the more I realized she really wasn't at all like Ecklie. She was smart, sassy, tough… and I could tell that Nick and Grissom liked her. If Nick and Grissom liked her, I trusted them. 

All these things rushed through my brain as I stared at Sofia's phone on the pavement. The lights of the police cars ran across the window panes of the diner. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I whipped around to see Grissom standing behind me, his expression completely unreadable. "God, Grissom," I snapped. "Scare the crap outta me, why don't you?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Brass called me." He motioned to Jim Brass and Nick, who were interviewing the waitress again. "Anything new?"

"Nah," I sighed. "The waitress didn't see anything, and there was no one else in the diner." I pulled a glove over my hand and picked up Sofia's phone. "I guess she dropped this when she got grabbed."

"Sofia's not one to go easy," Grissom observed. He pulled out a flashlight and shone it around the area. His light came to rest on something that glinted in the high-powered light. "Catherine."

I grunted as I stood. And no, I'm not getting old. I leaned down next to Grissom, immediately taking a whiff of his unique scent. "Looks like blood," I said quietly.

"One way to find out." He cocked his head slightly as his blue eyes met mine. He pulled out a swab and dipped the swab in the sticky fluid on the pavement. Grissom held it up and added some LCV to it. The swab turned a bright pink. "Definitely blood."

"Sofia's?" I braced myself for his opinion.

Grissom shrugged. "I have no idea. I doubt she wouldn't have put up a fight. She's pretty tough. Her DNA's on file at the lab; we'll check it out when we get back." I saw him glance down at the cloth next to Sofia's phone.

"I could smell chloroform on it when we first got here," I pointed out as I followed him to its resting place.

He picked it up gently with his gloved hand and took a sniff. "Definitely chloroform. We'll get Hodges to run a chemical analysis when we get back." Suddenly he furrowed his brow, like he usually does when he sees something that might have initially been missed. He took out a pair of tweezers and picked something off the cloth. In the light it looked a lot like…

"A hair," I said incredulously.

Grissom raised his eyebrows. "Specifically a short brown hair."

My mouth fell open. "Sofia's a blonde," I said, stating the obvious.

"Safe to say that she didn't contribute this particular piece of forensic evidence." Grissom slipped the hair into a small envelope and sealed it.

"Hey." I looked up to see Nick walk over to us, his handsome face weirdly contorted with worry. He sighed wearily. "The waitress didn't see a thing. She said that a dark colored sedan might have been parked at the far end of the lot when Sofia pulled up, but it's not there now. She didn't get a make or model."

I glanced at Grissom. He cocked his head at me again. "Well, let's go check it out."

"Look, Catherine," Nick interrupted, his drawl emphasized by his concern. "I'm all for the forensics and everything, but I think we should hit the streets and try to find her."

I could feel Grissom's eyes burning into me, but I tried to ignore them. "Forensics saved you, Nicky," I said quietly, putting one hand on his muscular shoulder. "Forensics is what's gonna save her."

Nick sighed in resignation. "I know… it's just that…"

"I know, Nicky." I gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. "I wanna find her too. But to find her, we need to make sure we get a complete picture of the scene." I shot him a quick grin as I held out my hand for help up. Ever the gentleman, Nick obliged and gently pulled me to my feet. As we walked to the other side of the lot, my mind whirled. Nick wasn't like this before… well, before _he_was held hostage. Was there something more going on with him and Sofia? I knew they were close. Hell, with a job like this, you can't help but get close to the ones you work with. Under any other circumstance, I'd be thrilled to pieces with them. I love playing matchmaker.

"Catherine." Nick interrupted my musings with a word and a nudge to my shoulder. I followed the beam of his light to a pair of tire tracks on the far side of the diner's parking lot.

"Hello, mother lode," I whispered. I pulled out my camera and snapped a couple of pictures, the flash whining as it cooled down. "Tire tracks."

"Acceleration marks," Nick observed as he squatted down next to them. "Someone was in a hurry."

"They could be old, Nick," I cautioned, not wanting to get his hopes up.

"Or they could be from Sofia's kidnapper," he insisted. "We should get back to the lab, have Hodges run them against makes and models." Without waiting for my reply, he turned on his heel and strode toward his car.

I shut my wide open mouth with a snap and slowly followed Nick to his car.

* * *

When I finally woke up from my chloroform induced sleep, my head felt like it was about to explode. Reminded me of the time I snuck out of my mom's house to go to a concert when I was thirteen. By the end of that night, with all the pot and the loud music and the jumping up and down, my head felt like it was three sizes too big. Needless to say, my mom the cop wasn't too thrilled about that.

My mom. I remember thinking about her when my head started to clear. I wondered if she was out looking at me. She still doesn't really talk about her side of everything too much.

My eyes felt as heavy as my head. I groaned with the effort of trying to open them, but they just wouldn't open. Finally the lids started to part. The wall in front of my was a kind of puke green, like you would see in a jail cell or the state mental hospital downtown.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._ I slowly turned my head to see a faucet on the other side of the room. Drops of water fell from it into the sink. _Drip. Drip._

I moaned again and smacked my head on a metal pole behind me as I tried to move my hands. A thick plastic band held them together behind me, attaching my body to the pole. As my vision started to clear, I glanced down to see that my feet were tied with the same plastic band that cut into my ankles every time I tried to move them.

"Oh God," I whispered, starting to panic. I was somewhere incredibly unfamiliar, tied up by God-knows-who who wants to do God-knows-what to me. All I wanted was my mom. And Nick.

God, that thought scared me right then. I've never been one to really keep committed relationships. Sure, I had my fair share of male acquaintances, but their names would have never come up in a moment of dire need.

The door slammed open in front of me. I could feel my eyes go wide as my captor stood silhouetted in front of me. "Detective Curtis," he whispered.

I couldn't see anything except his eyes. Those same blue eyes that scared the crap out of me at the diner looked me up and down, but there was nothing in them except sheer hate. Out of pure instinct, I tried to pull my knees up to my chest.

He laughed mirthlessly when he saw my reaction to his appraisal. "Don't worry, Detective. I don't want to hurt you. Yet."

The way he said that word sent shivers up and down my spine, and I kept my mouth shut.

"I'm going to leave you now. I really just wanted to see if you were awake, and I really didn't want to try any other methods of waking you up." The shadow cocked his head, his voice dripping with sarcastic concern. "I'll be back soon." He paused in the doorway and turned on his heel toward me. "You know, you look so much like your mother." With that he slammed the door shut again.

_My mother?_

_Drip. Drip._ All that was left to keep me company was the sound of that damn faucet.

I consider myself a fairly strong woman. I don't show emotion much. Maybe that's why I haven't had much luck with relationships. The feel of tears streaming down my cheeks frightened me almost as much as the realization that I wanted Nick right then. I was scared to death. Literally.

"Help!" I yelled at the top of my voice. "Someone help me!" I screamed in frustration as I tried to get loose from those pieces of plastic, not stopping even when I felt the edges of plastic cut into my wrists. When they went numb, I finally stopped, sobbing in frustration and then sank into a restless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update. The Super Bowl was Sunday (go Giants!) and I injured my knee Monday night playing football. So I've been trying to get that back to normal and haven't had much time to write. Hope you guys like this one!**

* * *

A sudden flash of light startled me out of my Stage One sleep. I squinted my tired eyes in the direction of the open door on the other side of the room. A familiar shadow filled the doorway, and I felt the disgust rise up from my chest. "You again," I spat, leaning my head against the metal pillar I was strapped to. 

"Now, now, Detective," he said patronizingly. "Let's at least attempt to be civil."

"You call _this_ civil?" I shot back, jerking my head toward my bound feet.

"Merely a tool, Detective. A means to an end."

"What end?"

I could see him slightly smile. "You'll find out eventually." He held up what looked like a camera. "For posterity's sake."

"When I get a hold of you, you won't have a snowflake's chance in hell of having any offspring to pass it down to."

He chuckled. "Feisty. Like your mother."

I ground my teeth together in rage. "What's my mother got to do with this?"

"Everything," he said simply as he leaned on the doorframe. "You really must relax, Detective Curtis. As long as your friends follow my directions to the last detail, you won't be harmed."

"Somehow that doesn't exactly provide much reassurance."

He cocked his head quizzically, much like Grissom does when he's staring down a crime scene. "Are you frightened, Detective Curtis?"

His question caught me off guard. I can still remember the training exercises at the LVPD Police Academy. _Whatever you do, do not show fear._ But the truth was, at that point, I was scared out of my mind. I wanted nothing more than to be back in my nice, hectic office surrounded by my colleagues and the occasional hooker. So I looked at the ground and whispered, "Yes."

"Smart girl. Truth is, I'm going to kill you before this is all over."

I felt the rage boil up within me, and for a moment I forgot my fear. "You sadistic son of a bitch," I hissed, struggling against my bonds once again.

"Guilty on both charges."

"You just wait until my _friends_ get a hold of you."

"That, my dear, is something that I greatly look forward to."

With that he slammed the door, plunging me into utter darkness.

There are a few times in my life I can remember being scared to death. The first happened when I was six, on my first rollercoaster ride. My mom said I turned a strange shade of green on the first little hill. The second, my first day of high school, with acne all over my face and my breasts not fully developed. Gym class was miserable until my sophomore year. The third, when Officer Bell got shot, and I was positive I had been the one to do it.

But I had never been so scared as I was at that moment.

* * *

Grissom glanced up as I rapped softly on the doorframe of his office. "Come in, Cath," he said, peering at me over his glasses. 

"The blood found at the scene was definitely not Sofia's," I reported as I sank into one of his chairs. "Wendy's running the DNA from the hair and the blood through CODIS now." I tossed the manila folder in my hand onto his desk.

He said nothing as he picked up the folder and flipped through it. He didn't seem to notice me watching him. His relationship with Sofia had never really been defined, at least publically. I knew he had been intrigued by her from the moment he met her. I knew he had convinced her to stay around.

Finally I couldn't take the silence any more. "Gil," I whispered.

He trained his blue eyes on me, his eyebrows raised quizzically.

"Are you okay?"

Grissom leaned back in his chair and removed his spectacles. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been through a lot in the past year... Warrick and..." I decided to leave Sara's name out of it. "And now Sofia..."

"Cath," Grissom's gentle whisper stopped my rambling, "I'm fine." He caught my gaze, and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. "Sofia's gonna be fine."

A knock at his door startled me, and I turned to see Nick in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space. He had lost that haunted look, and his face was all business. But I could still see the worry in his eyes. "I ran the tire prints at the scene." He handed Grissom three sheets of paper. "They're fairly rare, only put on about one hundred fifty brands of cars."

I snorted. "Well that doesn't narrow it down much. Any word on the DNA at the scene?"

Nick shook his head. "Wendy's still running it down." He looked at Grissom. "Have you called her mother yet?"

Grissom shook his head. "I'd prefer not to call her until we've got something concrete. The last thing we need is Captain Curtis hovering over us."

The younger CSI sighed. "She's gonna want to know."

Grissom opened his mouth to speak, but the little blonde receptionist from the front desk pushed her way past Nick and handed him a manila envelope marked _Urgent._ "This came for you a couple of minutes ago," she said quietly. "I thought you'd want to see it right away." She pointed to the label on the front. In bold letters were the words: _Regarding Detective Curtis._

Grissom caught my eye as he ripped it open. I reached up and slowly grasped Nick's hand, squeezing it ever so slightly. Grissom's eyes widened slightly in shock, then narrowed in anger. "Son of a…" he muttered as he handed me what looked like a photograph.

I reached over and took it from his hands, feeling Nick's breath on my hair as he looked over my shoulder.

A pretty young woman sat on a tan linoleum floor, her back leaning against a thin metal pillar. Her feet were bound in front of her, and her blond hair fell limply against her pale cheeks. Her locks covered her face, but I knew and Nick knew… it was Sofia. Someone had written a sentence across the picture that sent chills down my spine.

_It's not her I want._

_Was she some kind of sick mistake?_ I thought, horrified at the thought that maybe, just maybe, someone had put us through this living hell for nothing

Nick's soft inhalation and whispered curse brought me back. "What the hell?" Nick hissed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hey, Griss," Wendy's voice interrupted Grissom's reply as she entered his office and stood next to me. "I got the results on the DNA test. We got a hit off CODIS. The blood from the scene and the hair were from the same source, but check out who those little amino acids belong to." She handed me the computer printout.

"Raymond Jackson," I read aloud. "Creepy looking guy."

His eyes really freaked me out. They were so cold… like ice. It seemed like they were blazing with rage and malice. Someone said way back in the day that the eyes are the window to the soul. I'm not a particularly religious person, but in my line of work you find people that truly are evil, and there's just no other explanation for the things they do to other human beings. This guy's eyes led straight to his soul… and they were just evil.

I scanned the list of his crimes. "Breaking and entering in 1991, robbery two years later, aggravated assault in the robbery, aggravated sexual assault eight years ago for which he was just paroled…" A note next to that one made me stop. My jaw dropped to the floor.

"Cath?" Nick's concerned voice barely registered in the back of my mind.

"Check out who the arresting officer was on the aggravated sexual assault." I handed Grissom the printout.

Grissom's eyes widened. "I don't believe it." He looked up at me. "The arresting officer was Detective Janie Curtis."

Nick started forward and grabbed the printout from Grissom's hand. "Sofia's _mother_ arrested her kidnapper?"

"Call me crazy, but I think now would be a great time to call her," I said, glancing back at Grissom.

He nodded as he picked up the phone. "I think you're right."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I apologize for the long time in updating this story. This past semester was insane. Deaths, family getting deployed, homework, papers... I barely had time to sleep, much less write. I think this story has a couple more chapters left before it's finished, so my goal is to get it done this summer. Hopefully ya'll like this chapter... It's a little short, but I had to put in Sofia's mother.**

* * *

I never could really get over how much Captain Curtis and Sofia look alike. As the elder Curtis woman sat fidgeting in Brass's office, I stood outside the door and studied her. It was perfectly easy to see where Sofia got her looks. Janie Curtis was tall, lithe, and blonde, just like her daughter. The only difference was the eyes. Sofia's eyes were a light blue, like mine. I had seen them flash in anger at a suspect, and I had seen them well up with concern, and I had seen them dance with joy as she laughed at one of Nick's jokes. Captain Curtis's were a deep brown. And at that moment, the only emotion I could read in them was rage.

"They sure look alike, don't they?" Brass's familiar voice startled me.

I chuckled softly. "Yeah, they sure do. Have you ever met her?"

"Once, a while back. She's intense."

"Yeah." I looked back to the woman seated in his office and sighed. "Let's get it over with."

Brass nodded and moved to hold the door open for me. He followed me in, and Captain Curtis practically leapt to her feet. "Janie, this is Cath…"

"What the hell!?" she spat out. "Why didn't you tell me sooner that my _daughter_ had been kidnapped?!"

I glanced at Brass and inhaled deeply. "Captain Curtis, I'm Catherine Willows, and I…"

"Who the hell are you?!" she shouted, her voice getting louder.

I tried to start over again as calmly as possible. "As I said, I'm Catherine Willows with the crime lab. I'm a friend of Sofia's, and I'm working her case."

Captain Curtis's hard eyes softened slightly. "Where is she?"

"We're still working on that," Brass interjected smoothly. I smiled at him gratefully. "Listen, Janie, why don't you calm down and take a seat?"

"I will _not _calm down until you tell me what is being done to find my daughter." Her voice hardened somewhat, making her familiar clipped accent even more pronounced. She pushed a strand of short blonde hair out of her face and glared at me.

"We're doing everything we can, Captain Curtis," I said as soothingly as possible. "I understand what you're going through…"

"Do you have children, Ms. Willows?" she interrupted again.

I hesitated before answering. "Yes, I do," I whispered. The elder Curtis woman's eyes started to glimmer with her tears. "I know exactly what you're going through. And believe me, I want to see her back as much as you do. She means a lot to us."

Captain Curtis slowly lifted a trembling hand and wiped the corner of one eye. "She means a lot to me too."

"I know she does," Brass interjected again. "But we're going to need your help."

Her brow furrowed. "How?"

"When we processed the scene, we found some hair with the tag still attached, and some blood."

"Not Sofia's," the captain whispered softly, her hand flying to her mouth.

"No, no," I said quickly, shaking my head. "Not Sofia's."

"We ran it through CODIS and came up with a hit," Brass said coolly, motioning to the folder in my hand.

I pulled out the computer printout from Wendy and handed it to the other woman. "What can you tell us about this man?"

Captain Curtis sighed and took the paper from me. "Oh, this guy. He had kidnapped a girl from a local high school and brutally assaulted her. She was in critical condition for three days after we found her in the desert."

"How much did he know about you?"

Her eyes grew wider as she thought. "Oh God. He knew I had Sofia. She showed up at the trial one day to talk to me about… something, I don't even remember what. Oh my God. It's my fault." The tears welled up again in her eyes.

I reached out and gently laid my hand on her arm. "It's not your fault. It's no one's fault but his."

She glanced at me with a grateful look. "Thank you, Ms. Willows."

I smiled briefly. "Can you give us the address of his known hideouts?"

"Guys like this like to go back to places they know," Brass interjected, handing her a pad of paper and pen.

Captain Curtis wiped her eyes and picked up the pen on the table. "Yeah." She looked at the computer printout again. "That address isn't the same as the one eight years ago."

I looked over at Brass, who stiffened slightly. "Do you know the old address?"

"Of course. The school was a couple of blocks away." Her eyes widened again. "Do you think he has Sofia there?"

"We're just covering all the bases," Brass said quickly. "Just write down the addresses, Janie."

Captain Curtis handed him the paper, covered in her strong, flowing handwriting. "Find my daughter, Jim."

He looked at me, then looked back at her. "We will."

* * *

I opened my eyes again after what seemed like ages. I guess I had cried myself to sleep, huddled in that little corner of some sort of room.

There are very few things that can make me cry. I cried when I thought I had shot Officer Bell a couple of years ago… and I cried when I found out I didn't actually shoot him. I almost cried when that girl that had been raped by the man posing as a firefighter told me her story.

Come to think of it, I think that was the last time I actually cried.

Before today, that is.

God, I was scared. Scared for my life. There was so much I had to live for. My job. My friends. My mother. Nick.

For some reason, everything kept coming back to him. We were friends, sure. We were colleagues. We laughed, we joked, hell… we even flirted. I couldn't die before I found out how he felt.

That scared me more than being stuck in that damn room.

A thin shaft of orange made its way through a tiny window above my head. It was morning. Or at least, it was awfully close to being morning.

I could finally look around my little prison cell, to see if there was any possible way I could escape. It felt like I was strapped to some sort of stall…

That's when it hit me.

I was in a bathroom. Some sort of bathroom. The green on the walls looked a lot like the green on the station walls at P.D. A faucet on the other wall dripped constantly. So it was _that_ thing that nearly drove me insane last night.

Well, at least I had some sort of idea where I was. I took a minute to assess my situation, calmly and rationally. Calmly and rationally. That was the key.

There was a plastic band around my ankles, tying them together. There was no way I could get out of that. I moved my fingers to my wrist to see what I was tied to the stall with. It was the same kind of plastic band. Maybe… just maybe the metal edge was sharp enough to cut through my bonds.

I slowly moved my hands up and down the metal pole. My shoulders cracked and popped with the stiffness that came from the freezing air blowing from the vents. I kept glancing at the door, expecting my captor to walk in any moment and shoot me. Getting out of here was going to be slow going.

Very slow going.

I only hoped I had enough time to get out of there.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hopefully this chapter isn't too choppy... let me know if it is. I wanted to get different perspectives on the same event, so I tried to transition well. Let me know if I accomplished it! I've got one more chapter to write for this story... to add a little more SoNic and Grillows to this story. Enjoy!**

I had no idea how long I had been rubbing my arms up and down that stall support. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds long ago, and the smell of rain permeated my tiny prison. The bands loosened a little bit, but I couldn't really tell with the stickiness that coated my wrists. I couldn't really get a good angle on the bands, and the metal pole cut into my wrist. It was sharp, all right.

Suddenly I heard a noise outside… sounded a lot like police sirens. The sirens grew louder and louder. It sounded like they were a couple of blocks away.

I grinned to myself. My cavalry was coming.

* * *

Nick and I pulled up behind the marked police cars at the address Captain Curtis had given us. It was a run-down, abandoned-looking house. The shutters were practically falling off the siding of the house. "Okay…" I stopped when the passenger door slammed. I hadn't even unbuckled my seat belt yet. Shaking my head, I climbed out of my SUV and joined Nick and Brass on the front door step.

"LVPD!" Brass shouted and rapped on the door with his knuckles. "We have a warrant!"

The only answer we got was a rumble of thunder in the distance.

Brass nodded at one of the uniforms next to him. The cop lifted the small battering ram, reared it back, and brought it forward with all his might. The door separated from the lock with a distinct crack. Nick started forward, following Brass, but I laid my hand on his arm. It's not our job as CSI's to get in the way of the cops doing their job.

Shouts of "LVPD" and "Clear!" mixed with drops of rain hitting the windshields of the car. Nick and I waited for what seemed like hours on the front doorstep of that house. Finally, Brass appeared in front of us, materializing out of the darkness of the house. "It's clear," he said. "No sign of Sofia." He stepped aside to let Nick and me into the house.

I followed Brass into the living room, and Nick made his way to the back of the house. My flashlight beam hit the coffee table in front of the window. A cigarette still smoldered in the ash tray. "He couldn't have gone far," I observed quietly.

"We'll put out an APB on him," Brass said, pulling out his flashlight. "He must've heard us coming."

"Hey, Catherine," I heard Nick call from the back.

Brass and I followed the hallway to the back bedroom. Nick stood in front of a window, peering through the sheets of rain. He motioned toward the window. I stepped up next to him and followed his gaze across a field of dead grass. Behind the field, I could make out the outline of what looked like a school. "Didn't Sofia's mother say that Jackson did his crime at a school a couple of blocks from the house?" he asked.

"He couldn't have driven away," I said. "Our cars would have seen him. We blocked off the streets."

"And he was here a couple of minutes before we got here," Brass interjected.

Nick bent down next to the window and picked up a piece of cloth with his tweezers. "Looks like he jumped out the window."

"And ran across the field?" I said, glancing at Brass.

Brass pulled out his handheld radio. "All units to the school behind subject's house." He turned his gaze to me. "Let's get moving. Sofia's running out of time."

"Hey, Jim." Nick righted himself, and his gaze flickered back and forth between me and Brass. "This has never been about Sofia. It's always been about her mother."

I inhaled sharply, sensing what Nick was getting at.

"He's gonna want to talk to her," he continued. "Shouldn't we call her down here?"

Brass paused and his brow furrowed, like he was considering the proposition. Finally he exhaled and looked Nick straight in the eye. "Call her from the car. But we gotta get moving. He knows we're coming, and he's gonna finish what he started."

* * *

The sirens grew louder and louder. They were coming closer too the school. Jim must've figured out where I was. I grinned to myself.

I felt my bonds loosen even more as I rubbed my wrists vigorously against the metal pole. I knew he was coming back. If I could just get free…

Just then, my captor burst through the door, and I froze as our eyes connected. I felt a wave of bile rise up in my throat as I stared into his cold, hard eyes. This was the first good look I got of my abductor. Brown, stringy hair fell in his face, covering his brow. His mouth twisted into what looked like a permanent scowl. His face was scarred, the pale line running across his chin, like he had been sliced with a knife. He was wet, like he'd been running through the rain that still poured outside.

I glanced down at his hand. He was gripping a knife tightly… about six inches long, serrated blade. I had seen hundreds of knives just like it in my years as a CSI and a cop. Knives like that could make a hell of a dent in a person's flesh.

He leered at me for a minute, then moved toward me. "Your friends are smarter than I thought," he told me as he knelt down next to me. I felt his breath blow hot on my neck, and I shivered. His hands ran down my arms, and I winced as he touched the cuts on my wrist.

Finally he sat up and looked me straight in the eye. "You're lucky I have no time," he said, his voice low and sinister. "I'm gonna kill you anyway. Might as well let everyone see."

He sliced through the plastic bands around my ankles and wrists and pulled me up by my hair. I cried out in pain as my torn wrists brushed against the sharp metal again. He pressed the tip of the knife into my neck. "Now we wait," he whispered.

* * *

Thunder rumbled above us as we dashed into the school. Once inside, Brass drew his sidearm and lifted his handheld radio. "Red Team," he said quietly. "Are you in position?"

"Red Team, go," the radio squawked back. "Be advised that the subject is in a bathroom at the end of the west hall. One hostage."

"That would be Sofia," Nick whispered as he drew his weapon.

"Copy that, Red Leader. Kill word is 'Jim.'" Brass said as he jerked his head for us to follow.

"Copy that. Standing by."

I drew my own sidearm and took a deep breath. "Let's go," I said quietly.

No one spoke as we made our way down the halls. The silence was palpable. I sneaked a glance at Nick and saw that he had clenched his jaw. His finger twitched on the trigger. I couldn't blame him. I wanted to bring this guy down as much as he did.

Finally we reached the end of the west hall. Brass shifted his gun to his right hand and rapped on the door with his left. "LVPD!" he shouted. When no one answered, he gently pushed the door open and leaned his head slightly so he could see into the room.

"Come in, Detective!" an overly-jolly voice sounded from inside the bathroom. "By all means, open the door all the way!"

Nick glanced at me, and back at Brass. Brass shrugged and pushed open the door more, still cradling his gun in his right hand.

That was when we finally came face to face with Sofia and Raymond Jackson.

* * *

Finally I stood face to face with Catherine, Jim, and Nick. Boy, were they a sight for sore eyes! Catherine's eyes widened in shock when she saw me, and I briefly saw them flicker to my still-bleeding wrists. Nick's jaw clenched even tighter, like it always does when he's pissed off. I tried to communicate with Catherine with my eyes. _Please_, I told her. _Get me outta here._

She nodded almost imperceptibly and lowered her gun. "Jackson," she said quietly. "Can we talk about this?"

_Jackson?_

He chortled, and I felt the knife point press farther into my skin. "I don't want you," he practically spat.

"We know," Brass spoke up, lowering his gun too. "We know what this is all about."

"Then you know that I wanna talk to her."

_Her?_

"She's on her way, Jackson." Catherine made eye contact with me for a brief second before her gaze flickered back to my abductor. "She'll be here in a couple of minutes."

"In the meantime, why don't you let her go?" Nick said, barely keeping his voice under control.

He laughed again. "Not a chance."

Catherine jumped when a door slammed at the end of the hall. "Fia!" I heard my mother yell. Jackson's sharp intake of air resounded in my ear.

My mother suddenly materialized in the doorway, her hair dripping wet from the downpour. "Oh, Sofia," she murmured, a single tear making its way down her cheek, mingling with the rainwater.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a wide grin cross Jackson's face. "Well, Captain Curtis. So good of you to finally join us."

"Let her go, Jackson," my mother replied. I could tell she was desperately trying not to look at me. "This is between you and me."

He shook his head and laughed. "Yeah, maybe it is. You took my life away from me. Now I'll take yours away."

* * *

I could see Sofia's eyes widen as realization hit her. "Jackson," she whispered. "Raymond Jackson? The rapist from ten years ago?"

"Eight," he corrected her. "You know, my case made your mother's career. Isn't that funny? Her career, taken from my life."

"She didn't take your life," Nick softly spoke up. "You forfeited it."

"Nick," I whispered as anger flashed across Jackson's eyes.

"You know," he said quietly. "I think we've had enough talking. Time to say goodbye."

Sofia moved quickly. She jabbed her elbow into Jackson's gut and twisted out of his grip. The air escaped him with a soft _oof_, and the knife skittered across the floor. He lunged for her and I pulled out my gun, just as Brass yelled, "Jim!" The window above us exploded in a hail of glass, and I instinctively ducked to avoid getting sliced.

When the glass settled, I glanced over at Jackson. He lay prostrate on the floor, flat on his back, his once-cold eyes now glazed over. A small hole, nearly hidden by his stringy hair, graced his forehead right between his icy eyes, and a pool of blood slowly spread across the floor around his body. Sofia huddled in her mother's arms, visibly trembling. Who could blame her, with what she had just endured? The elder Curtis stroked her daughter's hair softly, tears streaming down both their cheeks. Nick leaned against the wall, an exhausted look crossing his face as he stared at Sofia.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was over.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Last chapter! I'm excited... this has been a great experiment. I've never written in first person before, and it was great to see if I could actually handle it. I think I did. Thanks to everyone who reviewed and gave me so much support. I couldn't have finished it without you. Enjoy! And leave me a little lovin' at the end!**

A slow yawn escaped my lips, and I leaned my head against the side of the ambulance as my legs dangled over the tailgate. Until then, I hadn't realized that I had slept for only three hours in the past twenty-four. I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

I reached up with one bandaged wrist and brushed a strand of wet hair from my face. The rain was finally letting up, changing from a downpour to a gentle, steady shower. For the first time in twenty-four hours, I was safe. And it felt good.

A knock on the side of the ambulance startled me, and I jumped. My mother popped out from the other side of the vehicle. "Hey," she said softly.

I sucked in a deep breath. "God, Mom, you scared me."

She laughed, and her brown eyes twinkled, like they had so many times when I was a child. "Sorry," she murmured. "Can I come up?" She gestured to an empty spot next to me.

"Sure." I scooted over a little to allow her some room.

Her eyes drifted to my bandaged wrists. "What did the paramedics say?"

"They want to take me in for observation and stitches," I replied, fingering the bandage on my left hand. "No big deal, they said."

"That's good."

A tense silence settled over us. My mother started fidgeting with her hands, like she always did when she wanted to say something. I waited patiently for her to say something. Finally, she inhaled deeply and turned to face me. "I'm so sorry, honey," she whispered, her eyes starting to moisten.

"For what?"

"For getting you into this." She wiped at the corner of her eye. "I never thought that…"

"It's not your fault, Mom," I said with a smile. "It's no one's fault but his."

"But if I had…"

"No, Mom." My voice took a firmer tone to it. "You couldn't have done anything differently." I sighed and hesitantly wrapped my arms around her. She slowly leaned into my embrace. "You know what Jim told me?"

She shook her head.

"He said that you probably saved my life by telling them where Jackson's hideouts were."

My mother straightened out of my embrace slowly. "Really?"

I nodded, my own eyes welling up. "So thank you, Mom."

She sighed, tears streaming down her face, and wrapped me up in a big bear hug. "I love you, sweetie," she whispered in my ear.

"I love you too."

A loud cough next to us startled us, and we finally released each other. Nick stood shyly by the ambulance. "Sorry to interrupt," he said in his characteristic drawl, "but I was wondering if I could talk with you for a minute." He nodded at me.

My mother rubbed my back softly and gave me a barely perceptible wink. "Sure thing," she said, hopping down from the tailgate. "Take all the time you want." She winked at me again before she disappeared around the corner, leaving me shaking my head.

Nick watched her go, then hopped up on the tailgate next to me. "Look, Sofia, I just wanted to apologize," he said, looking down at his hands.

"For what?" I asked for the second time that day. I was beginning to get exasperated with all the apologizing.

"For not being there when you needed me," he mumbled.

I chuckled and put my hand on his arm. "Apology accepted… and unnecessary."

"You being missing… it scared me."

My eyes widened. Nick never admitted fear. "What?"

"I thought I'd lost you. And it nearly killed me… that you… didn't know how I felt. About you."

My eyes widened more. "What?"

He raised his head and looked me straight in my eyes. "We've been back and forth for months. I like you, Sofia. Don't you think it's time we did something about it?"

I pursed my lips and looked away, thinking. Should I tell him what went through my head while I was trapped? What would Ecklie and the undersheriff say? Suddenly I felt a smile creep across my face. This was Nick we were talking about. Screw Ecklie and the undersheriff.

"Yes, I do," I replied, turning to face Nick again. My hand moved down his arm to grab his hand. "Nick… when I was being held…" I took a deep breath. I'm really no good at talking about feelings. "God, I don't know why this is so hard…" I finally decided to just spit it out. "You were all I could think about."

His mouth dropped open.

"It scared me… more than being stuck in there, because I realized that I… I want you, Nick. I realized that I couldn't die before I found out how you felt about me."

He swallowed hard. Before I knew what was happening, his hand reached up, and the back of his fingers gently brushed my cheek. "Well," he said, leaning in slightly. "I'm glad that we agree on something."

I giggled. "What's that?"

Nick leaned in quickly and brushed his lips against mine… just a whisper of a kiss, but suddenly I felt electricity shoot through my whole body. It was over in just seconds, but I sat there with my eyes closed for what seemed like forever. Nick Stokes had just kissed me. I never thought that he would actually… I don't know, be interested in me.

"Sofia?"

I opened my eyes to see Nick staring at me, a confused look on his face. "Oh, sorry," I said, heat rushing to my face. "It's just…" I smiled at him. "That was really nice."

"I'd always wondered what it felt like."

"Me too," I replied, grinning as I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand. He gently grabbed it and softly placed a kiss in my bandaged palm.

That's why, when I look back on that night, I don't see it as something incredibly traumatic. Sure, it was. I still fight off the ghosts and nightmares of that night. But if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't have someone to hold me when the ghosts rear their ugly heads, and the nightmares steal my sleep.

* * *

I watched Sofia and Nick from a distance, a huge grin on my face. I couldn't help it. They were just too adorable. I'd been waiting for Nick to find someone and settle down for so long, and Sofia… I couldn't ask for a better match.

"Good for them," a familiar voice spoke up in my ear. I whipped around to see Grissom standing behind me, his trademark quizzical look on his face.

"Yeah," I said softly, turning around again to watch my two friends.

"I'm glad Nick finally let her know how he felt."

"You knew?" I turned around to stand face to face with him.

"Of course. I caught him looking up Elizabeth Barrett Browning's love sonnets online a couple of weeks ago."

"And you deduced he was thinking about Sofia?"

Grissom shrugged. "Who else would he be thinking about?" He sighed. "Since we're talking about feelings, I was wondering… would you be interested in dinner tonight? Celebrating Sofia's safe return."

"What does that have to do with feelings?"

"Let's just say that Nick and Sofia have made me think about what's important in life. And I decided that you're pretty high up there on my list."

My mouth fell open in shock. Gil was never someone to talk about feelings, his own or anyone else's. "What's gotten into you, Gil?"

He stepped closer. "Nick was buried alive. Sofia was kidnapped and almost killed. Warrick… and Sara…"

That was the first time I'd heard him talk about Sara since she left. I reached out instinctively and touched his arm.

"They made me think about how life is too short to let good things pass you by." He looked me straight in the eye. "And you're a good thing, Catherine."

I stood there for a minute, too stunned to say anything. Gil Grissom… telling me his feelings? We'd been friends for years, but nothing more. Especially after Sara. I sighed deeply. Did I want him? I didn't know. I did at one point in my life, but he'd moved on, and so had I. But now… I glanced back at Sofia and Nick. He had his arm around her, and she was laughing at some joke he'd made. Did I want that again?

Damn right.

I looked Gil in the eye and smiled. "I'd love to have dinner with you, Gil."

I look back on that night with a certain… fondness, I guess you could say. It was one of the worst nights of my life. I thought I had lost a dear friend and colleague. But that night, I realized something I should have realized a long time ago. Life is too short to let opportunity pass you by. Nick and Sofia found that out. I found that out with Gil.

I guess this is what they mean by looking for the silver lining in every cloud.


End file.
